


While we Wait

by Hopetohell



Category: Hellraiser (Movies), Night Hunter (2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Face-Sitting, Light Angst, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Sex Toys, Smut, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: Walter is going to be a little late. Surely you and Mike can find a way to pass the time.
Relationships: Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)/Mike (Hellraiser)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	While we Wait

It’s winter, in that brief space between autumn chill and the first real snow. Mike’s curled in the window seat, watching the rain fall and playing idly with his asshole. _Been a while._

_Hm?_

_Since I had a dick in my ass, babe. Cmere. Bossman called, he’s gonna be a little late. Kitten up a tree or something. So I was thinking. You still have that strapon, right? Wanna fuck me while we wait?_

_You gonna be thinking about him during?_

_Hey, no. Babe. When it’s you and me, it’s just you and me, alright?_

_I know. But sometimes— I feel like I can’t give you what he can._

_Course you can’t. But that’s not the point. He can’t give me what you can, either. And I can’t give you what he can, and he can’t give you what I can, and so on, babe. So don’t worry about it. If I say I want you in my ass it’s because I want you, and not just as a substitute._

_Pretty words from a guy who once compared a girl’s pussy to a boggy swamp._

_And her pubes were mangroves, yeah, I remember. That was a good one._ And just like that, the tension eases; oh, it’ll be a conversation later, when Walter’s there, warm and solid and steady

( _Oh, sweetheart. I want to help you feel as beloved as you are to us. To me.)_

but for now Mike is just so goddamn pretty with his fingers in his ass, shiny and slick, with his little pleased sounds and the way his thighs tense when he moves his fingers just right. _Cmon, babe. Please. Need you in me._ And how could you resist that angelic face, lids heavy over eyes gone dark with lust, lips parted, _please, please, I’m so ready;_ what else can you do but step into your harness and slick up your toy, and sink into him like a sigh?

‘ _Sgood. So good. Just like that._

_Mike. Hey. Look at me. Can you do that? Watch me_

_(I want to feel seen._

_Oh, sweetheart. Darling girl. Come here.)_

And this is the joy of taking him face-to-face like this: the way color rises on his chest and cheeks, the way he hisses and bucks when you dip your head to lick at the barbells in his nipples— _sensitive? Too much?_

_Fuck, no, please. More. It’s like it’s pulling right on my cock._

_That’s your hand._

_You know what I mean—_

—the way he bares his throat to you. 

_Gorgeous boy._

And it’s so easy to fall into the sweet slide of your toy in his ass, into the way his fingers press divots into the back of one thigh. And here you can watch the rain;

( _What do you dream about?_

_Rain. Dark earth. Footprints on the lawn. Sometimes I understand and sometimes I don’t. But it always seems important._

_Do you mean—_

_Yeah. The house, you know?_

_Sometimes I dream about it too)_

Here you can watch Mike and the way his eyes widen as

_You two having fun?_

The way you turn your upper body to look at Walter has the toy moving so interestingly in Mike; he makes a strangled wet sound and a _what the fuck, do that again;_ there’s the gentlest brush of chilly fingers against your back and then Walter settles in to watch. 

_Go on, my darlings. How would you like to give me a show?_ And yeah, Walter’s eyes are burning through you; a look at Mike shows he feels it just the same. 

_Yeah._

Walter shoves his pants halfway down his thighs to take himself in hand; he’s filling fast, thick and heavy, the kind of cock that looks unmanageable but oh your mouth is watering at the thought of what it can do. And he matches you stroke for stroke; eyes fixed on where you disappear into Mike, on the silicone that draws out slick and shiny only to plunge in again with a little grunted _oh_ from Mike, echoed now by Walter.   
_  
Love to see you enjoying one another. Oh, he’s close. Will you make him come?_

And yes, isn’t that that point? (It’s not, but it’s halfway there.) Either way, it’s going to happen; Mike’s pulled taut from end to end, so ready, so _babe, I’m gonna—_

_Show me, then. Come for me. Make me believe I can feel you clamping down around me._

And he does, coming hot over his own belly; he shivers for a moment, gathering himself. And Walter’s _manners, Michael_ is only a formality; already he’s got his hands on your straps, tugging you up and over his face; Mike’s fingers tug the leather to get you right where he can mouth at you, with lips and tongue and the smallest hint of teeth. 

Mike’s _good, fuck, perfect, you’re perfect_ is muffled by your folds but it still vibrates up through you like a shock; he can’t help but reach to stroke the toy where it still bobs above him, slick and blood-warm. _Babe, I—_ but whatever he wanted to say is lost in the grind of you against him, in the shining smears you leave in your wake, in Walter’s hand suddenly warm at your back. 

_That’s good. Just like that. Ride him hard, he loves it. Loves to make you feel good._ And Walter’s fingers clench just briefly as he comes, as his seed spatters down across you and Mike, painting you all warm and sticky, staking his claim as if you weren’t already, irrevocably his. And though you come messily over Mikes face it’s not the point (but it’s halfway there); the point is the way he strokes the inside of your thigh with his thumb, the way Walter bends to look you in the eye, the way rain slides against the window glass. 

The point is this: it’s you and them, and no relationship is ever perfect, but you have trust and love, and that’s an awfully good foundation.


End file.
